WP3: Pre-Write 3

In my last post, I took some quick stabs at the different aspects of Saul Baizerman's Serenity, leaving many questions to the reader and not exploring in too much detail. This post will refocus some of those ideas and give them more concrete basis in their respective rhetorical appeals.
The properties of the copper were brought up last time, but let us explore them further, starting with it's darkened color. From a distance, the statue's metal skin is a dark, almost brown hue. It is not very bright or saturated. This evokes a sense of pathos within its audience, suggesting some dark thought or gloomy air about the piece. It is by this appeal that I noted some sense of sadness about the piece; browns and other dark tones often evoke such moods.
This makes the piece even more interesting, though, when one takes the time to view the structure closer. In this closer view, the copper has a brighter red hue, whose pathos suggests a more hopeful air. Red is a color of passion and life, which, compared to the drab brown seen from a distance, makes an interesting and ironic juxtaposition. Serenity suggests that even as it appears depressed and hopeless to the casual on-looker, there is still a sense that things will be better. It is almost a hearkening to the old saying, "Every cloud has a silver lining."
Pathos can also be drawn from the amount of "person" apparent in the sculpture. When one looks upon the structure, they immediately believe it to be a human body. But why? It is missing it's arms, legs, and even its head, things we normally deem necessary for something to be human. Instead, the viewer's brain fills in the rest of the person. And each person will likely see something different about the missing pieces of the statue that they fill in. Here, too, is a scintillating analyzation on the name, Serenity. The fact that no person can be entirely sure of the structure's facial expression, and therefore mood, makes it so that each viewer sees something different within the piece. The idea of "serenity" is much the same. Each individual has a different idea of what is serene, what brings them peace. Every person will have a separate idea of what "serenity" entails.
Being that the structure is one body, it does not seem that there would be any visual hierarchy about it. But when one slows down their thought and their viewing, they will notice that their eye is drawn about the structure in a particular way. The right shoulder and arm are a standard place to start. Not only is it one of the most reflective sections of Serenity, but it is also one of the most complete limbs. The way in which it curves about the body makes it appear to be whole at first glance, so we begin by expecting that the rest of the missing parts are hidden somewhere, as well. Lighting then takes the viewer across the shoulders, down the back, and across the legs. This is why the audience takes special note of the lack of body parts: both arms could arguably be lost somewhere within the wall, but the rest of the legs seem to miraculously disappear.

WP3: Pre-Write 2

Saul Baizerman's sculpture, Serenity, is certainly an interesting piece of work. Made of hammered copper, it hangs a few feet off the ground, suspended from the wall by four curled bands of metal. First and foremost, the structure seems somewhat human-shaped, like the curled back and upper arms and legs of someone sitting on the floor. This view is supported by the piece's material, as copper has a color quite similar to an earthy and somehow human tone, appealing to the onlookers via pathos. In crafting the structure from said metal, Saul's hammer work leaves many tiny dents across the figure's "skin," yet these little imperfections add to its humanity.
From there, it is important to note the less-than-human features of the sculpture. As stated earlier, the figure is not entirely created; the head and left arm are completely missing, and the remaining limbs end at or before the joints. It has no defining features, the things that we often take as giving us our identity, yet most, if not all viewers will likely still assume the subject is human. This is one of Serenity's most interesting facets to me. What exactly is the piece trying to say by this? Dictionary.com defines "serenity" as: The state or quality of being serene, calm, or tranquil," yet the sculpture appears to be facing away from its audience, grasping itself in a pose almost reminiscent of the fetal position. This evoked the greatest pathos in me, as I began to worry for the figure, and wonder exactly how "serene" he or she was.
The metal's cut also added to such ideas. When the edges are looked upon, they are quite rough in some spots, and not wholly straight. Was Saul trying to explain something about ourselves as humans? Like I said, this fact is not readily apparent, so perhaps there is some critique there about the "rougher parts" of our personalities, of our lives, which we try to hide from the rest of the world.
So, too, does the copper's color ask something to its audience. At first it is dark and rather drab, but when looked at closer in the right lighting, there is a pure and bright red hue about it. Even as the sculpture attempts to say something about the sadness and drabness of human existence, it also speaks to the greater brightness that populates life.
The copper, itself, does not seem as if it has had too much care of late. This may just be an effect from its station in the outdoor statue garden, but the metal is dark, dirty, and a little rain-worn. This may also add some interesting angles to its rhetorical appeals, whether intended by the artist or not.
The metal is interestingly tempered, to a point where it is thin and seemingly light, yet still quite sturdy. Sure, there are are a few stray holes about the structure, likely from the nastier bouts of Nebraska weather, but still holds up to most battering. Again, this could yield quite nicely to an analyzation of the human condition, as apparent from the utilized material.